I got bored trying to write poetry

(so I wrote some random prose. No rhyme, no reason, just unfiltered brain to fingers)

“We were in the water. It was dark and I remember" [I remember!] the Christina Aguilera song pops into my head. Ugh. I was not a fighter at that moment. "I remember trying to swim, but it was so dark. I kept thinking how maybe if I drowned I’d be warm. I know I splashed about for a while longer, my head was getting very heavy and I couldn’t remember exactly which direction I was supposed to be swimming." [just keep swimming, just keep swimming] But I didn’t feel like Dory "and so I sort of paused. And that’s the end of the memory.”

“I see, and you don’t remember anything after that?”

“Well sure. I remember waking up in the hospital and I was totally freaked out. I remember ripping out the IVs and I guess one of them must have had me connected to a heart monitor because that flat lined. And I was confused, thinking that the flat line meant I was dying you know?”

“Mhmm. Do you know why you were, as you say, freaked out in the first place? When you woke up?”

“Well, hospitals kind of freak me out" [she’s a superfreak, superfreak] "in general. People… die in them.”

“Did you know someone who died in a hospital?”

“Hey doc, I gotta run" [and the bass keeps runnin’ runnin’ and runnin’ runnin’] "but we can keep revealing all my inner secrets next session okay? My insurance says I can have a few more.”

“That sounds fine.”

“Okay, sure thing doc, ciao.”

I had never been so glad to leave a session since the boating accident. I swear he doped the air vents or something. My brain felt like I was cracking out, turning my words into songs and the next thing I know I’m about to reveal that she died in her hospital with the doctor just watching. Damned doctors, they don’t really know what they’re doing I think. Or she wouldn’t have died.

I grabbed a bus to the grocery and picked up a giant steak, a loaf of bread, and some ice cream. The stock girl looked horrified by my cart so I threw in some frozen vegetables. My eating had really gone down the drain since her death. She didn’t cook so much as she magically put food together. I don’t think I ever actually saw her look in a cookbook, just threw stuff into pots and pans and we had dinner. No meat back in those days, I don’t enjoy it as much now, but I keep trying. The doc said eating meat again might help me move on. Mostly it just makes me nauseated.

I went to unlock the apartment door but it gave when I touched the door handle. I threw the bag to the side and reached for my gun. Damn! In the car. I grabbed the frozen steak, desperate times. I threw open the door and was all adrenaline ready to beat the crap out of whoever was in the place. I dropped the steak. I swayed. She turned around.

“A steak? Honey, I thought you were adapting to vegetarian meals.” She looked disappointed. “Well, that’s okay, I guess, well, I don’t know how to cook it, but if you really want it tonight you could just eat the vegetable dish as a side.”

Then I’m pretty sure I said something like, “Huh buh buh muh, wha?”